The Strange Case of the Missing Pottery
by Aranel Carnilino
Summary: What to do when things start disappearing around Middle-earth? Elrond, super sleuth, is on the case! He's lordly, he's wise... and he has a chain gun.
1. Chapter I

The Strange Case of the Missing Pottery

_Elfchicks, with special guest writer, HaldirofLorien13 _

_A/N: This story is not meant to be a serious reflection of my knowledge of Middle-earth. I know very well that the Fourth Age Elves did not have iPods or chain guns. I have taken artistic license in my inclusion of modern references and anachronisms. And timelines. And general randomness. Whew. Now that that's out of the way, I shall carry on. Forgive me, Tolkien – I mean no disrespect to your marvelous characters. Let the mystery (and the madness) begin! _

One beautiful evening in the Fourth Age of Middle-earth, an elf by the name of Ondollo was sitting on a grassy hill near a verdant forest enjoying the warm sun. He gazed off to the East, towards his home village of Arta-pelar. The nearby river was scintillating and dazzling to behold, and the colorful town seemed to glow in the fading remnants of golden light. As he continued to soak in the sun, Ondollo remembered the important letter to Elrond he needed to finish by the next morning, and reluctantly rose to his feet and headed down towards the village…

Sadly, Ondollo never made it back to the village. He slipped on a banana peel placed on the ground by some young elflings. He then fell onto a hairbrush, injuring himself further. He was taken to the elvish hospital, where his caretaker was, strangely, an orc! Now, this orc was no ordinary orc, or Ondollo would surely have good cause to be alarmed. This orc was a reformed orc. As you should be aware of if you are an average to avid fan of the books and movies of LotR, Orcs are supposedly twisted Elves, so it makes sense that they can go either way. It's a rare occurrence, I know, but this orc was truly reformed. I mean, what would he be doing working at a government-sanctioned healthcare facility if he wasn't? While his appearance was still kind of questionable (he wore a mangy wolf pelt and a rusty chain maille skirt, which Ondollo passingly thought looked rather unsanitary), one could tell at a glance that his was a kind and caring demeanor. He offered Ondollo a bottle of soda, 7-Up to be exact, which he thought might help with the unfortunate elf's nausea.

Ondollo, wandering in and out of consciousness, forced a weak smile and gently pushed the soda away, sickened by his caretaker's unkempt appearance, but not wanting to be rude. "I need to… I have to… write that letter to Elrond," he mumbled incoherently, feebly trying to get up.

The orc looked on sadly. "No soda?" he asked, as gently as an orc can. "How about a stick of chewing gum? Some Lembas, perhaps?"

But Ondollo was already out the door. He ran to his "house" by the edge of the forest. He glanced around. Everywhere he looked there were tubes of toothpaste: in his bed, on his table, even in the sink, there was toothpaste. He groaned. He cleared off a section of table and began to write his letter.

It read:

"Dear Lord Elrond,

"I write to you to discuss an urgent matter. The Númenórien pottery that we had put away for safekeeping has been stolen. I do not know who did it, so I am asking for your expert detective skills to help me solve this crime.

"Good-bye,

"Ondollo"

Then, thinking that perhaps this hastily-writ letter in its current state of utter brevity and tactless prose might cause Elrond to view him with disdain and perceive him as inept, Ondollo compulsively wadded it up and tossed it in a trash can overflowing with tubes of toothpaste. Pulling out another sheet of parchment and dipping his quill pen, he started to revise his letter.

It read:

"Dear Lord Elrond,

"I take my pen in hand to inform you of some dreadful news. I am referring to the theft of the priceless and irreplaceable Númenórien pottery we concealed for safekeeping. I was, of course, occupied with urgent matters when the theft occurred, and therefore unable to have prevented it in any way, shape, or form, though I did all in my power to discover the perpetrators of this heinous crime, and have been looking for clues day and night for a week now. I would have written you sooner, but I was _indisposed_.

"You know that I had all of this pottery hidden away in the secret storeroom beneath the only crabapple tree in Arta-pelar. As Manwë is my judge, I inspected it closely every day, making sure nothing had been disturbed, and for many years, everything seemed in order. Except last Monday, when I found the doors to the secret entrance flung haphazardly open (the lock picked!) and all of your pottery missing, all except for a broken urn. Yes, the clumsy crooks destroyed one of your most precious little pieces – the one that resembled an upside-down fedora. 'Twas a shocking discovery, to say the least.

"As it stands, I believe the best course of action would be for you to make all speed here at once, lest these premeditated pilferers escape to some distant land with these invaluable heirlooms of the ancient past and hawk them ignominiously at a street market like those of Far Harad, squandering the profits on foolish, exotic baubles, like a pair of those tremendously rare pink sunglasses or one of those fabled, indestructible monocles… or worse, a legendary toupee that causes all maidens in the vicinity to fall madly in love with its wearer. I pray you will come as quickly as you can manage, before it's too late.

"Your humble servant,

"Ondollo"

Ondollo took this carefully crafted letter to HIS servant, and for good measure, enclosed an iPod for Lord Elrond.

It only took a few days for the letter to reach Lord Elrond in Rivendell. The day had started out well for Lord Elrond. It was a bright sunny day, and his favorite "I heart Rivendell" tee shirt was clean. He pulled it on, along with his favorite blue jeans. It was dress down day in Rivendell. As he sat down next to his obese tabby cat to eat a bowl of oatmeal, he heard a great commotion coming from outside.

Lord Glorfindel came dashing into the room, out of breath. "My lord, a letter from Ondollo has arrived!" he panted.

Elrond, furious at Ondollo's long lapse in correspondence, brusquely tore the proffered letter from Glorfindel's hand and ripped it open. Glorfindel and the servants, as well as Arwen, Estel, Elladan and Elrohir (who had come running when they heard Glorfindel shout), watched intently as Elrond's eyes scanned the letter, noting the elf lord's face growing darker and more intense.

"What's it say, Ada?" said the twins in unison, unable to contain their curiosity any longer. Arwen and Estel looked at them strangely. How did they do that? Did they have a psychic link?

Elrond scowled, wadding up the letter angrily. The iPod fell out on the ground. The angry elf-lord fiercely snatched up the device and glared at it, as if to place the blame entirely on its shiny, blue and red, plastic surface. As he glared and thought, thought and glared, he gripped the tiny gadget so tightly that the bystanders were sure he would crush it. At length, remembering that the twins had asked of the contents of the letter, and feeling everyone present's eyes on him, he decided to tell them… something, though he wasn't at liberty to speak about the Númenórien pottery, even if he had felt at all inclined to do so. "It… uh… says that Ondollo was reading a bedtime story to a manatee when, suddenly, he was carried away by flying monkeys. He wants me to go… uh… rescue him right away."

Everyone looked at him exceedingly skeptically. Perceiving that they didn't believe him, Elrond gave them the horrible, terrifying, appalling "look" feared the world over: the Evil Eyebrows of DOOM! They all recoiled and, talking and tripping over each other, made hasty, lame excuses to leave. Within a few seconds, Elrond was alone. Just the way he preferred to be. Now he could scheme in peace and quiet.

Sadly, the twins managed to find the angered Elf Lord several minutes later, as he was walking back to his study.

"Ada, can you tell us the bedtime story that Ondollo was telling?" asked Elrohir.

Elrond turned around, surprised. "No, I am busy."

"Please?"

"No."

The twins finally managed to get Elrond to read them a story, which he actually made up as he went along, and after that, they left him alone.

Now it was time to get to work. Who would have stolen the pottery, and how would they have done it? The pottery had been protected with an ancient elven magic, so it was almost impossible to open. HOW? HOW? HOW?

Elrond began to get a headache. He decided to visit his pet manatee to relieve some stress. But when he arrived at its tank, he discovered that the manatee had also gone missing! Impossible! The walls of the tank were ten feet high, and the water level didn't even come close to reaching the top. He looked more carefully at the tank and saw a large, perfectly round hole made with a sawsall that could easily accommodate a manatee… and all the water in the tank. He noted stone-facedly the eroded trail the gushing water had made in the turf, and he also thought he could see manatee-like footprints in the mud, leading away into the woods.

"Drat!" said Elrond aloud to himself. "This has not been my day. Next they'll be telling me my llama herd has gone missing." Striding back inside the main portion of his beautiful and elegant abode, Elrond sat down a minute to think. "Stolen pottery and sabotage. Could there be a connection?" He pounded his fist on the armrest of the chair. He would do as Ondollo had advised, and head to Arta-Pelar at once. Perhaps if he could be at the scene of the far more critical crime, answers might offer themselves. First, however, he needed to pack.

He decided to travel light, taking only the necessities. "Kevlar vest and chain gun, yes, yes," said Elrond thoughtfully, checking off a clipboard. "Bow and arrow, slingshot, yes, yes. Hmmm… what am I missing?"

Sadly, Elrond did not figure out what he was missing. He left without ever packing his butterfly net. He completely forgot about it. He was so convinced that he was done packing that he set off into the wilderness just a little bit unprepared.

As Elrond meandered through the woods, he came to love the sound of the trees waving their branches in the air. He loved the sound of the creek, rumbling low to the ground. He loved everything about the great outdoors. Except the insects. Every single little insect that Elrond found bit him. Hard. Welts popped up all over his arms, legs, and face. And there was no way he could figure how to stop them from itching. Elrond was being driven to the brink of insanity. Racing haphazardly through the woods, manically swatting at the pursuing pests, he eventually had a bizarre idea, which was probably the desperate last resort of an elf-lord in peril of his life.

He stopped, pulled out his handy chain gun, and began unloading it into the huge swarm of bugs. He went through thousands of rounds, discharging and reloading at an amazing rate. Eventually, there were no more bugs. There was also no more forest in that direction for several hundred yards, as the trees had all been riddled with holes and reduced to large clumps of branches, leaves, and sawdust on the ground. Elrond's rage cooled. He stowed the smoking gun, leaving an enormous pile of empty shell casings, and calmly continued on his way through the woods, occasionally itching at his scalp.

Presently, night fell and he was compelled to search for shelter. Being none too keen on sleeping up in trees, unlike his woodland cousins, he decided to look for a cave. He was fully aware that he probably wouldn't find that which he sought, but that certainly didn't stop him from trying. Amazingly, just as the last vestiges of sunlight filtering through the trees had nearly faded into darkness, he spotted the mouth of a massive, dark cave yawning blackly before him. He couldn't help but feel a little trepidation, but he reminded himself that he was Elrond. Everyone and everything was scared of Elrond, with good reason. This comforted him. He stepped inside.

The beauty of the cave was unmatchable. Crystals of every color imaginable were streaked along the walls, and massive stalagmites rose from the floor. With the dim light, he could see that the cave stretched out for a while, and he could not see the back. He decided that he would sleep right where he was. After some amount of tossing and turning on the cold, packed cave floor, he drifted off, dreaming of being trapped in a 1,000 foot high tree house with his grandma.

-To Be Continued-


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II

In the morning, when Elrond awoke, he felt that something in the cave was different. Something had changed since he had crawled in last night. He just could not place his finger on it.

He decided to explore. With the new light, he could see very far back into the cave. As he walked farther and farther away, the colder and colder the cave got. Elrond passed an exceptionally large stalagmite, and saw a small box. The box puzzled Elrond, and he decided to open it. Big mistake. A swarm of bats flew out, filling the cave with their raucous screeching and horrid, scratchy wing-flapping. Elrond jumped back, startled, flinging the box (which didn't at first glance appear to have the capacity to accommodate as many bats as were now swarming so thickly that they blocked the light) into a wall. Fending the little brutes off with his fists, the elf lord hurried to the entrance of the cave, rummaged in his pack, grabbed out a hand grenade, pulled the pin, and lobbed it back into the recesses of the cave. There was an immediate, very gratifying, earth-rocking explosion. The annoying screeching ceased and a dead quiet fell. Grimacing as he brushed the bat droppings from his rich garments, Elrond made his way back into the now silent darkness of the cave. He took a closer look at the box, which, due to the elf-lord's startle reflexes, was now broken in half, having been hurled against a wall. Elrond saw immediately on the back the word "Pandora."

"Well, _that _explains it," said Elrond. "But what a distasteful prank." He continued on, deeper into the recesses of the cave. Suddenly, to his utter shock, he saw a steady light coming from around a perceived corner. Cautiously striding around the corner, he saw he was face to face with… a bookshelf. Elrond, before realizing it was a bookshelf, nearly jumped out of his skin. Yes, it was only a bookshelf. However, it was no ordinary bookshelf. It was filled with many, many old and bizarre looking books. Some of the books had jeweled covers. Some had stains on them. One appeared to be glowing. This book caught his attention. Blowing off dust, he lifted the book off the bookshelf. He opened it, and the light grew stronger. Then, there was a dreadful explosion, which blew jewels, books, and papers everywhere. It rocked the cave and threw Elrond to the ground. When the dust began to settle, the elf lord picked himself up, somewhat shaken, and looked around. He muttered about there being too many explosives in this story, then pulled out his handy beret from his bag and began using it to clear the thick cloud of dust choking the air.

Now, you must know something about Elrond's special beret. It was no ordinary beret. It had some pretty special magical powers to it. Even Elrond himself did not know the full extent of the powers in his beret. But right now, the Beret served its purpose as a thinking cap. Elrond was determined to figure out who stole the pottery. He placed it on his head, and the cap told him at once to walk around. He got up, and began to examine the room. The beret also provided light. It was quite a useful possession. As he searched the room, Elrond came to a small box. He lifted up the lid of the box, and when he looked at what was inside, he couldn't believe his eyes. There, sitting in the box, was the stolen pottery. All 547 complete pieces – the entire collection. How they all fit into this miniscule box, Elrond did not know, but he guessed that they must have been miniaturized by some kind of foul sorcery. This angered him for, though he was again in possession of his previously mislaid relics, they were all 1/64 their normal size. Oh well. At least he had recovered them. He had to be grateful.

Elrond had a quick lunch-break of a delicious roasted herb, garlic, tomato, onion sandwich and then headed out again, shoving the little box into his haversack. He decided to continue on toward Mirkwood to inform the pottery's trusty guardian of their miniaturization and reclamation. And since his pet manatee was still unaccounted for and the pottery crooks might possibly have had some connection to its escape, Elrond knew he had to gather all the clues he could find.

At one point when he was striding purposefully along, he thought he heard something strange, like a muted bellowing. He quickened his pace, somewhat disconcerted. He was traveling at such a quick speed, in fact, that he didn't see a large protruding tree-root directly under his feet, and snagging one of his strong and yet dainty toes on it, catapulted headlong through the air in a downward parabola, ending in an ignominious face-plant in the only mud puddle in the entire forest. Elrond _again_ clambered to his feet, glad no one had witnessed the embarrassing incident, and began swiping at his muddy face with his ornate sleeves. As he was doing so, he thought he caught a glimpse of something odd reflecting in the puddle. He whirled around to see that he was face to face with…

Legolas! The Prince of Mirkwood was standing there, in a radiant light, and he seemed to be glowing. Elrond felt very self-conscience about all the mud on his face. _Of all the times he could have found me, why now? Why can't I be all radiant and glowing like him?_

Elrond had never liked Legolas. He had been the victim of numerous childhood pranks from his sons and Legolas, who were good friends. Elrond still remembered the time when Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas had spilled coffee all over his beautiful white carpet. It took months to remove the stain. A small portion of it still remained.

"We meet again, Elrond. It is my honor to be meeting you along this little road."

Elrond thought that Legolas should be honored to be meeting him along a road. And it wasn't much of a road. More of a trail, really.

"Shall I take you back to my father's palace?"

Elrond couldn't refuse. Not he. Especially since he very much wanted to bathe, as being dirty made him out of sorts. Legolas cheerfully started prancing down an overgrown path, looking back occasionally to see if Elrond was following. Elrond felt undignified, and felt an implacable urge to turn and run. Or pull out a weapon. After about an hour, during which time Elrond said nothing whilst Legolas happily chattered on and on about hairbrushes, squirrels, feathers, and kumquats, they finally saw through the trees the parapets of the outer stone walls. As they approached, Legolas turned and whispered furtively, "My father has been a little bit cranky these last few days. Maybe your visit will cheer him up."

Elrond thought that with someone with Legolas' annoying personality around, it would be impossible for anyone _not _be cranky. He said nothing of this aloud, however. All he wanted was a bath and a change of clothes, and then he might feel more benevolent towards the irksome elf-prince. Legolas spoke some strange password that Elrond didn't comprehend. Something like "Mi pelo es más bonito que el pelo de Glorfindel!" At once, the immense cast iron gate began to creak open. It was a glossy black and had an ornate, gothic feel to it, and ivy vines trailed down and wove their way through its bars. Legolas and Elrond stepped inside and the heavy gate closed quickly behind them.

Elrond had never been in such a beautiful place. He fell in love with this house. He promised himself that when he returned to Rivendell, he would make his own house more beautiful. Of course, here they didn't have Elladan and Elrohir running around destroying everything. Elrond sighed.

Legolas must have sensed that all Elrond wanted was a bath and a change of clothing, so he led him along a long corridor and into a room with a massive bath in it. He pressed some buttons, and the tub filled with warm water and lots of bubbles.

Elrond felt like he was in heaven. After his bath, he had been given a pair of white pants and a white shirt made out of an extremely soft fabric.

"Elrond, we need to talk," said a voice.

Elrond whirled around, startled, to see King Thranduil himself. He resembled Legolas a good deal, but looked older somehow and more regal. He was dressed in a long, green, silken robe, embroidered with a curling, tendril-like design, and bound about the middle by a golden belt.

"Ah, Thranduil, my old friend," Elrond said, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible. He was in a better mood than earlier, so he found this rather easy. "What is the matter?"

Thranduil absently twisted at a shiny emerald ring on his right forefinger, markedly searching for words. "Well…" he started, looking from the ring, to Legolas, back to the ring, and finally to Elrond. "Son—" he addressed Legolas, finally "—would you please run and fetch me some… um… er… biscuits?"

Elrond looked at him strangely, wondering what the elvenking could possibly want with biscuits. It had to be a ploy to get rid of Legolas.

"From the kitchen," Thranduil added as an afterthought, in case Legolas couldn't figure out the most likely place to find biscuits.

Legolas cheerfully pranced out the door, humming as he went.

"Now that he's gone," Thranduil began, looking relieved, "I have to say that I'm immensely glad you came here, even if that was not your original intent. You see, there is a matter of the utmost urgency about which I must speak to you at once, if you'll please accompany me to a more private room… Word has traveled across this land we inhabit….and, well… you aren't the only one missing belongings." The regal king sighed. "My prize collection of armor has gone missing. One day it was here, the next it wasn't."

"And you are sure that Legolas hasn't taken anything?" Elrond asked, wondering if the elf aspired to be like his father.

"Legolas would never do such a thing! How dare you accuse my son, my perfect son, of such blasphemy?" Thranduil screeched.

Elrond stared, slack-jawed. "Pardon my error, but Legolas is not the most innocent kid around," Elrond muttered. He wondered if he was going to accomplish anything with Thranduil. Thranduil seemed very keen on denying any wrongdoing by his son.

Elrond found that his mind had wandered a bit. He was trying to figure out WHO in Middle Earth would steal such random items. Then an idea struck him.

"Have you considered, perhaps, the fearsome Apes of Harad?" he asked abruptly, completely straight-faced.

Thranduil paused a moment, then burst into laughter. "The _what_? Surely you jest."

"And why not them?" Elrond queried, refusing to take offense at Thranduil's mocking incredulity. "You know they are the most likely culprits when it comes to random acts of mischief. They don't mean to be, but their trainer—a crazed Haradrim named Ûzrigsben—sends them from time to time to cause mischief or pilfer valuable items. You remember?"

Thranduil looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Monkeys? You think monkeys did this? How would they have gotten in here unnoticed, through my many defenses and under the noses of my sentries? It's impossible. This took someone with skill, not a pack of brutish apes."

"You asked for my counsel," said Elrond, a little irritated. "They were the only culprits that readily came to mind. Believe me; I've been troubling my head over it for days."

Thranduil sighed, twisting his ring thoughtfully. "Can you think of anyone else who might have—?"

Suddenly, Legolas pranced in, balancing a tray on his palm and grinning from ear to ear. "Here's your rolls, ada!"

Thranduil hesitated a moment, then stammered: "Rolls? No, no, dear son. I—I asked for, uh, biscuits! They must be biscuits, because, uh, er, Elrond here is on a special diet, and he can't have anything but biscuits. Rolls would be… uh… disastrous to his, uh, health."

Legolas blinked a couple times, then comprehending, grinned and pranced back out the door.

Thranduil breathed a sigh of relief. "That should keep him busy for another few minutes."

Elrond was puzzled. "And why can't Legolas listen in on this conversation?"

It was Thranduil's turn to look puzzled. "I don't want him to... get any ideas by himself. He's an adventurous young chap... and he might go off to collect these, what were they, 'hazardous apes'?"

"Apes of Harad?" Elrond offered.

"Yes, those!" Thranduil looked like he was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Why don't we set out to find them?" Elrond asked. "They are our only logical suspect." _Other than Legolas_, Elrond thought. He still believed that annoying young elf had something to do with this entire problem.

"Legolas, we're going on an adventure!" Thranduil yelled.

"Why is he coming?" Elrond protested. "You're the one who didn't want him hearing what we were talking about."

"He can be useful," Thranduil insisted.

"Not likely," Elrond mumbled, trying to conceal his expression of displeasure. This just kept getting worse and worse…

-To Be Continued-


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

_A/N: Sorry it took so long to update, loyal readers. Life got crazy, as it is wont to do. Enjoy! _

"Ada!" Legolas half squealed, rushing into the room a moment later. "An adventure?! Really?!"

"Yes," replied Thranduil, looking stern, and completely ignoring Legolas' exuberance. "But it's not going to be a 'fun' adventure. It's very serious. You mustn't get carried away around Lord Elrond. If you go along, you'll have to behave yourself."

Legolas nodded, suddenly very serious. Then he grinned broadly, and asked, "Do you still want the biscuits? I've brought them – they're just outside!"

Thranduil's countenance grew pained, as he felt his "ruse" had gone a bit far, but decided to salvage it. "Uh, yes, dear son. Lord Elrond is fair famished! Isn't that true, Elrond?"

Caught off guard, Elrond stammered, "Uh… yes. I – uh – I feel faint."

Legolas scampered out the door and returned with another tray of biscuits. However, in his unbridled excitement, he uncharacteristically tripped on an exotic Easterling throw rug and the tray with its contents went flying. Being an elf, Elrond had no trouble catching the tray, but the biscuits were another story. Thranduil solicited a servant to clean up the mess, whilst Elrond unceremoniously brushed the floured biscuit remnants from his robes. Legolas looked apologetic, but Elrond still fumed.

While some servants set about cleaning up, Thranduil clapped his hands once for attention and spoke: "We – Lord Elrond, my son, Legolas, and myself – are departing to hunt down the vile Apes of Harad within the hour. I shall require several worthy escorts, as well as sufficient provisions, apparel, and canopies for at least a fortnight! See to it at once."

A servant scurried away to relay the message to its respective recipients.

A second later, a different servant came rushing in, breathless. "Milord!" he said, bowing slightly, "we have captured a bizarre creature that we found pilfering food in the royal kitchens. It is large and unruly…"

"Well, what is it?" Thranduil demanded. "Surely you must know what it is!"

"Well, no, actually, we, uh, don't."

"WHAT?" Thranduil boomed. "How can you not know what it is? I AM KING. You must identify this creature and report back."

The servant scuttled off, looking mortified. Several other servants looked at Thranduil before disappearing off to make more biscuits.

"Well then," Elrond said rather loudly, "whatever shall we do? My robes are slightly soiled with…. biscuit crumbs. But that is no worry. I shall survive."

Legolas looked like he wanted to say that it was not his fault Elrond was covered in crumbs, but his father silenced him.

Another servant rushed in, all in a sweat and panic. "Milord! The creature! It has escaped!"

"Oh, curses," said Thranduil. "Well, we must leave at once! We must catch this unknown creature as soon as possible and we must surprise it. Then we shall go after the vile Apes of Harad."

With that, they were off into the forest. It hadn't taken too very long to assemble the list of items and escorts that Thranduil had requested, especially since the servants could see he was in no mind to be delayed. The "several worthy escorts" turned out to be ten warriors – five swordsmen, two spearmen, and three archers – who stoically brought up the rear, leading two fully loaded packhorses, as Elrond, Thranduil, and Legolas forged ahead into the dense, overgrown forest. Perhaps "forged" isn't the best descriptive word. Maybe "slogged" would be more accurate.

Elrond wished he'd changed before departing. He felt somewhat undignified having to hike up his robes in order to keep from tripping over them as he labored through the mud, thick vines, and verdant undergrowth. To make matters worse, Legolas was prancing annoyingly cheerfully along in front of him, the rough terrain not hindering his progress one iota. Elrond muttered darkly and tried to increase his pace.

Thranduil, who was also in robes, seemed not to mind much, but he did request, once or twice, that the overeager Legolas decelerate. All at once, their keen, elven ears caught a strange, somehow distant noise coming from up above them somewhere.

"IT'S THE BEAST!" shrieked Thranduil.

"SILENCE!" boomed Elrond. "IF WE SCREAM, IT MIGHT BE SCARED AWAY."

Something materialized in front of them. Evidently, the two elves' loud voices did not scare "the beast" away. All members of the party stood in awe. The figure before them looked so familiar.

"Where do I know this person from?" Elrond wondered out loud.

"You don't recognize me?!" the beast yelled.

"Er, no," Elrond replied.

"Blasphemy!" the beast yelled again.

Then it hit Elrond. The wave of understanding also hit Thranduil at the same time. Both elves, thousands of years old, could not believe the mistake they had made. They also could not hide how foolish they felt. For the beast standing in front of them was none other than the Green Queen herself, Galadriel!

She was in the midst of her creepy transformation that she enjoyed undergoing to freak out strangers in her kingdom – you know, the one she used on Frodo when he tempted her with the Ring? At any rate, she was none too happy to be referred to by a fellow monarch as "THE BEAST," but she reminded herself of how much greater she was than the lowly Elrond and Thranduil and decided to let it slide for now. She had other matters that required their attention.

Quickly resuming her normal, regal form and a dignified air, she stared the two elves and their entourage up and down, then regarded them with a knowing smirk.

"Why, if it isn't King Thranduil and Lord Elrond, out for a lovely stroll!" she said with a reserved laugh. She looked very majestic and ethereal in her flowing, nearly diaphanous, white gown, and the delicate, skillfully wrought tiara that crowned her noble head and accented her lustrous, perfect waves of golden hair gave her an imperial aspect.

The two woe-begotten Elves stared, their mouths gone dry, wondering what the forest queen could possibly be up to. Legolas cowered behind them, not daring to say a word. Without taking his eyes off Galadriel, Thranduil surreptitiously nudged Elrond, as if to nominate him to speak. Elrond, still feeling abashed, finally stammered out some semblance of a reply to Galadriel's taunt. "We, uh, we were just, uh, off to see, uh… we just wished to inspect the, uh, Mirkwood, uh, scenery."

"I see," Galadriel said, again releasing a mocking chuckle. She drew herself up to her full height and gave them the full of her dazzling, scintillating gaze.

Elrond and Thranduil all but recoiled, struggling to maintain equanimity. "Lord Elrond," Galadriel said in a slightly deeper voice, "I sense that you are keeping something from me. Are my senses correct?" Her eyes bored into him so strongly that Elrond began to tremble – very unusual for him.

Thranduil gulped and watched helplessly as the elf queen mentally tormented Elrond. Finally, the elven king could take it no longer and blurted out melodramatically, "We're hunting for the Apes of Harad that stole Elrond's Númenórean pottery and my armor and other valuable items! Please believe me! We're not up to anything that would require your concern or intervention!"

Legolas finally peeked out and whimpered something unintelligible, which sounded rather like he was trying to plead for his life.

Galadriel ignored him and smirked once more at Elrond and Thranduil. "It so happens," she said, "that your story checks out. I am also bereft of a precious item – the circumstances surrounding its disappearance are remarkably similar to those you describe. My mirror – yes, THAT mirror – has been stolen."

"Well then, we are all in the same boat!" Thranduil clapped, overcome with relief.

"Yes, perhaps you would like to accompany us on our mission to recover out lost treasures!" Legolas squealed.

"Er, well, I don't know if that would be such a good idea," Elrond mused. "I mean, we must maintain secrecy of our mission. Adding another member to our ranks might… well… you know…."

"You are just looking for an excuse to leave me behind, alone here, in this dangerous forest," Galadriel huffed.

"Oh, of course not, my fair lady!" Elrond gasped.

"Good, then I am coming," Galadriel said.

Thus, the troop marched through the dense wood, then out onto an open plain, then through grassy fields, all day. When night came, it dawned on them that they only had enough camping supplies for two, as Galadriel and Legolas were unanticipated additions to their ranks.

"Well then…," Thranduil said.

"Er, yes, Thranduil and I will just begin setting up camp over here," Elrond said hesitantly.

"Oh no you don't!" Legolas and Galadriel screamed.

A brief scuffle ensued, which resulted in the men losing all their supplies. Night fell and the campers drifted off into an uneasy, but welcome, sleep. Little did they know, they were being watched.

The following morning found Elrond sprawled out prone on the springy turf, hair spiking from his head as if he had turned punk rocker, robes grass-stained and soaked with dew. The steady rise and fall of his back betrayed that he yet lived, but Thranduil and Legolas were loath to rouse him.

Galadriel stalked forward, looking like she had just bathed, groomed, and had a change of clothes, though she obviously hadn't. Her abilities to remain clean and unblemished, no matter her surroundings, were nauseatingly unfair. "Out of my way," she hissed at the two elves, aiming a massive kick for the snoozing elf lord's side.

"Don't do it!" Thranduil yelped, retreating backwards. "Haven't you heard how perilous it is to wake—?" He trailed off as Galadriel fixed him with a look that would have started a forest fire, had it been directed at any nearby trees. She then gritted her beautiful, straight teeth and lightly poked Elrond with her toe.

"Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Elrond seemed to bypass the law of gravity, leaping to an astronomical elevation above the others' heads. When he at last plunged to the earth again, he instantly sprang up and into a fighting stance, hopping side to side with ready fists, eyes somewhat glazed over.

Lady Galadriel gave an exaggerated yawn and turned away. Elrond came to himself shortly after, and no one said anything on the subject, as their journey continued. As their armed escort had, apparently, deserted them, they had no supplies or provisions. Or any capabilities of defending themselves. This would have been more troubling, but both Elrond and Thranduil knew that Galadriel was easily the most terrifying creature that could possibly haunt the dark and sinister woods.

They had just passed a strange, languorous stream, when the elf queen suddenly halted. "Did you hear THAT?" she questioned, glancing side to side with an unreadable expression.

Thranduil and Elrond exchanged looks and shrugged. Legolas scurried behind a tree, peeking out in trepidation.

"What, milady?" Thranduil questioned, gently. "What did you hear?"

Galadriel stiffened. "You incompetent fool! How could you NOT hear that? Have your elven faculties abandoned you?" Finally, somewhat placated by the elven king's obvious shame, she heaved an indulgent sigh. "It was a shrill call, melodic almost, very high-pitched. Now let's spread out and ascertain what it was!"

Out of the blue, what looked like a massive polystyrene birdbath plummeted out of the trees, rending the ground right at Galadriel's feet with a deafening report.

"My mirror!" she squealed, uncharacteristically taken aback. "Oh my gosh! My mirror! My flawless makeup routine might be ruined because of you!"

She stopped for a moment, then collected herself. Elrond and the others look positively horrified. They realized that somehow, Galadriel would manage to blame them for the wrecking of a priceless elven artifact. They prepared for the worst. But it never came. Instead, Galadriel continued as if nothing had happened.

"Look, you three are the most hopeless 3 musketeers I have ever met. I am going to help you out," she said.

The three men wondered what "helping" in Galadriel speak equated to in relation to their lives. Hopefully it didn't literally mean their lives.

"I have decided that I am tired of watching you stumble across the landscape. I am going to show you where whatever was stolen from you is being held. Dear heavens, this has been going on for too long. My memory is hazy!" she started rambling.

"Erm…. Galadriel…. you could, like, show us…," Elrond suggested.

"OH RIGHT!" She almost laughed. She snapped her fingers. There was a flash of light. The four were transported across time and space. Only, not the correct time and space. Now they were stuck in an alternate universe.

"Oh dear," they all muttered.

-To Be Continued-


End file.
